The Death of a Tyrant's Concubine

CHAPTER 01 - I Died That Day

✦✦✦

【𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄】

I loved him even as he thrust his sword right through me.

"Raine Stjorme, Nightshade Concubine and Princess of Drakfjord... I, Sylvos Thorne, Emperor of Thornmont, Sovereign of Fayndor, and Wielder of Briarvex... sentence thee to death."

With those cruel words, he yanked Briarvex from my stomach, the sword's intricately engraved blade glistening with my blood. I sank to my knees, my black gown quickly drenched in crimson.

The entire inner court had gathered in the throne room — including all 100 concubines. It was an assembly I had imagined would herald my coronation as empress. Yet, it became painfully clear that I was the only one mistaken.

My hands trembled as I clutched my stomach.

"How... How could you?" I whispered.

After praying for so long to be blessed...

Tears blurred my vision as I gazed up at Sylvos, my heart breaking anew.

Black eyes that had once gazed at me with love now burned with hollow resentment. His silver hair, which I had caressed only days before, was now crowned with jagged metal.

"How could you!?" I cried louder. "I bear your child! Why would you slay your own heir when fate had denied you of any for so long?"

A shrill, haunting laughter echoed through the vast throne room, chilling the air.

My attention snapped to the silver throne, a grotesque seat of jagged spikes and thick gnarled vines that reached toward the ceiling like a crooked claw.

From the shadows beside the monstrous chair, Isolde stepped forward, a sinister grace in her movements.

Like me, she wore a flowing black gown that marked her as a Nightshade Concubine. Yet hers was embellished with bronze trimmings that glinted wickedly, complementing her fiery red hair.

"You wish for His Majesty to believe the child you carry is his?" she snickered, her voice dripping with malice.

"Of course!" I insisted, my hands clutching my stomach as I fought to stem the flow of blood. Each ragged breath scraped like shards of ice against my lungs.

"Liar." She tilted her head, emerald eyes glinting with cruel delight. "Ser Kaelan Blanc has already confessed that the child is his."

"What?!"

Her words felt like a kick to my already wounded stomach.

Desperate, I turned back to Sylvos and seized his black boot. Still on my knees, my blood stained its polished leather.

Surely, he would see the truth.

"Sylvos... please," I begged, my voice trembling. "You must believe me. This is a lie! I have only ever loved you! I have only ever been faithful to you! For three years... Do you not see? The gods sent us this child as proof of my loyalty!"

A voice like cold steel cut through the throne room.

"Your Majesty, do not be deceived by this traitor's cunning tongue."

I turned toward the speaker — Ser Bastian, Captain of the Briarbound Knights. He stood tall, a wall of black steel, his long obsidian hair framing a face carved from stone.

"Just last week, her sister wed the King of Pyree," he declared. "It's clear that Drakfjord wishes to conspire with our enemies. Treason such as this cannot go unpunished."